


Reconciliations and Relief

by HamishHolmes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamishHolmes/pseuds/HamishHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Sequel to my story 'Where's My Lover Gone?'. It is not necessary to read the other story, but I'd recommend it.<br/>If you don't want to read it, then basically, it's about Sam and Gabe leaving (in separate chapters) and the other's anguish.</p><p>This is about what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sam's Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Peggy.Peters](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Peggy.Peters).



Gabe woke again and stared the clock down. It resolutely refused to tell him that it was later than 5 o’clock. He’d been waking every hour or so since he fell asleep at midnight. He curled his feet up, trying to tuck them up into some warmth somewhere, but he couldn’t find it anywhere. He sat up, pushing his hair out of his eyes. The room was dark and the shadows were menacing and they sent the kid in Gabe back to his freezing room in their old drafty house when Lucifer would lock him in and forget about him. He got up, knowing that he would never get back to sleep after that thought. He slunk through to the kitchen, filling the kettle and slinging it onto the hob, where it began to heat slowly. He turned on the radio, wondering what was going on in the crazy world.

“And today, fighting in the Crimea has reached a climax, and a reported 19 people are dead and it doesn’t look like any side will be yielding any time soon.”

As Gabriel listened to the ever depressing news reports streaming in an almost endless river from the radio, he began to get more and more furious until, in a fit of pique, he yanked the radio off the counter, pulling the plug out of the wall and throwing it onto the floor. He stamped on it, yelling for it to shut up. His hands curled into fists and frustrated tears leapt to his eyes. Eventually, he sank to his knees on the pieces of the broken device, crying earnestly in huge gulping sobs. Fat tears hung on his cheeks like jewels before falling like angels rebelling to the old tiles below.

How had he fucked up so badly that Sam could still believe that Gabe could love somebody else?

Heavy hearted and nursing aching hands and feet, Gabe got ready for work. He knew that now ... now Sam was gone, he wouldn’t have the financial stability of the legal fees. Not that he hadn’t managed before, but he had become used to a certain way of life, and the apartment’s rent cost more now. Maybe he’d downsize again, see if there were any one person flats available.

He left the house and locked the door, knowing in his heart that he could never really leave that flat. What if Sam wanted to come back? He wouldn’t know where to find him. So Gabe would stay in that flat, even though Sam’s letter had made it clear that he probably wasn’t coming back, because what if he did?

Almost without thinking, Gabe had arrived at work. He opened the store, apron on and smile unfaltering. Or so he thought as he served a couple of newcomers, their eyes alive as they roamed the array of chocolates that Gabe had handcrafted. They hadn’t seemed to think that anything was off about the grinning man with witty repartee who handed them their chocolates with a sly wink.

At about ten, Chuck, one of Gabe’s most loyal regulars, walked through the door in his usually button down and jeans. As always he looked like he was running on an hour of sleep and nine cups of coffee. He walked straight up to the counter and leaned on it, throwing a five dollar bill in the tip jar.  
Gabe prepped his regular Sunday order (a couple of large bags of toffees coated in chilli chocolate, three gars of mint chocolate and an assorted box) and then handed it to him, smile plastered on his face and eyes never quite meeting Chuck’s.

“What’s wrong, Gabriel?” asked the older man, handing over exact change as always.

“Nothing,” said Gabe, pulling a _why do you ask_ face.

“Oh, come off it Gabriel, you look worse than I’ve ever seen you look,” said Chuck, “you look like I do.”

“That’s not so bad,” said Gabe, stopping his eyes from flickering down over himself.

“Really, I know what I look like and it’s not a good look for anyone, let alone a young man like you.”

“I’m not that young any more, Chuck,” said Gabe with a smile, “and I have other customers to serve.”

“Okay,” said Chuck, not at all convinced by the chocolatier’s insistence that everything was fine, “but talk to someone about it.”

Gabe rolled his eyes, “there’s nothing to talk about, now get out of here before your characters begin to miss you.”

Chuck smiled, but there was worry there too that Gabe didn’t want to see and so he ignored it as Chuck being weird, as normal.

Gabe worked for the whole day, not stopping for a moment, not a second as he served customers with lightning efficiency and designing or making new chocolates when there were slow patches.

Every single regular looked at him with the same worry that Chuck had, but he shrugged them all off with some line about there being stuff to do, or orders to new chocolate to sort out. He didn’t tell any of them the truth, because the truth, if spoken aloud, would break him all over again; he couldn’t face that, especially at work. He watched the door out of the corner of his eye the whole day, waiting for his most regular regular. Every time the bell sang, he whipped his head up from whatever he was doing, but he never caught a glimpse of shaggy hair and lanky legs. He was serving his final customer of the day, a man called Ash who came in fairly regularly for Gabe’s speciality alcoholic chocolates and liqueur truffles when he finally broke.

“Ash, here are your chocolates; thank you for your money; now you have to get out.” 

Ash looked at him knowingly and didn’t comment, merely nodded, thanked Gabe and told him he’d be back again on Tuesday.

Then Gabe locked the door to the shop and sat down on the floor and cried. He had cared so much and it had come to this, come to the looks of pity that framed the faces of everyone he knew, as if his heartbreak was tattooed across his forehead in capitals. Almost every second he was awake, he was waiting for Sam to reappear, everything he saw reminded him of Sam and every thought that stumbled across his mind was Sam related. It hurt like hell, like fire racing through his veins and burning him from the inside out. His soul felt tortured and broken, but he couldn’t lie on the floor of the shop all night and so he managed to force himself upright and out onto the street.

Stumbling, Gabe held his bottle high as he managed to get his key into the lock.

“And I-ee-I-ee-I will always lo-ove yo-oo-oo-ooooooo,” he chorused as he tripped through the door.

“And I’ll always love you too,” came a soft voice from just out of sight. 

Gabriel whirled until he was facing the direction he thought that voice had come from.

“Sam?”

Sam stepped forward, shadows making his face mournful, although maybe that was the expression. He was looking down at the floor, unable to raise his eyes to look at Gabe for fear of what he would see in the other man.

“I can’t believe you’d just turn up like this again,” said Gabe, the sudden meeting sobering him up slightly, “not after what you said in that letter.”

“I’m so sorry, Gabe; I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing by you. I thought that you’d be free, that you’d be better off without me.”

“WELL YOU WERE DAMN WRONG!” shouted Gabe, voice breaking and bottle clattering to the floor, “you were damn wrong. Sam, I can’t live without you. Every minute that I thought I’d lost you, my heart broke again and again. I’m not sure what else to say, because if you walk out that door again saying that you’re not coming back, you really have to mean it. I can’t take this again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” said Sa, taking a step closer to Gabe, “I promise.”  
Gabe stared hard at his face and he must have found what he was searching for because he leapt into Sam’s arms, knocking the bigger man back slightly.

Sam swore he never wanted to leave again and Gabe made sure he kept his promise a month later when he proposed.


	2. Gabe's Gotta Come Back

Sam was awake, much against his better judgement. His throat hurt and his eyes stung, and he didn’t want to feel it. He didn’t want to feel anything, but there was the pain, ricocheting through his body as he lay there. In fact he lay unmoving until the alarm on the bedside table rang, its shrill ring echoing round the empty apartment like a banshee’s call. The person that the alarm was set to wake wasn’t there anymore. Sam was never again going to wake up to the smell of molten chocolate as Gabe tried out a crazy new flavour combination. He sat up, but couldn’t get any further as his head fell in to his hands, digging his fingertips into his skull slightly.

Then, with a final push, he made it up onto his feet, slightly unsteadily. His t-shirt was too big, and that combined with his checked bottoms made him look like a child. Gabe had always thought that it was adorable, but without him Sam felt more like a child left in the shopping centre.  
He managed to make a cup of coffee and with the warm liquid in his stomach he felt a little more human. He still couldn’t really accept that Gabe was gone, but he was starting to believe it. He showered quickly and dressed in his suit and tie, grabbing his briefcase on the way out to the office.

He walked his usual route, past Heaven’s Wonders, where he glanced left and looked for Gabe. Usually he stopped in, but today, the shop was shut, as it had been yesterday. He missed the chatting that she shorter man provided on a daily basis as he dropped in to buy a quick box of chocolates on his way to work. But today, he arrived at the office empty handed, except for his briefcase. He swung into his office and sat down.

He pressed the button on his intercom and poke to his secretary, “Anna, can you send in my 9:30?”

“Of course I can sir, but you have a 9:15 who might be a little annoyed,” said Anna, amusment in her voice and Sam smiled despite himself.

“In that case, please can you send in my 9:15.”

The morning passed swiftly with no clients providing particular difficulties and no legal complications on the other side. He barely had a minute to himself which suited him fine as his social life as currently in turmoil and only by keeping busy would he manage to keep the pain at bay.

It reached 12:30, his lunch hour, and he didn’t want to stop working, so he called Anna and asked her to grab him something from a sandwich shop, or wherever she was going and that he’d pay her back, but she said that she wasn’t leaving the office and that he really needed to take a break, or he’d work himself to death.

In response, Sam sighed, but he decided to follow his usual lunchtime routine and go back down to Gabe’s shop, to meet him for lunch.

He left the briefcase on the floor and wandered out of the office and along the corridor, shouting a ‘hi’ to Garth and one to Becky, who grinned like she’d just hit the jackpot. Anna said to say hi to Gabe for her, and Sam managed a tight smile and left.

He wandered through the streets envying those walking hand in hand in the beautiful sunlight. The water in the fountain sparkled and so did the smiles of every one of the couples around. He hated them with a passion. He couldn’t even look at them, at them being so happy.

He reached the shop, which was to his surprise, open. He didn’t go in, instead, he loitered by the window, staring through the glass to the counter where Gabe stood. Well, more sort of slouched, back bent, head down, handing the customers their purchases with no smile, comment or wink. His demeanour was anything but happy.

Sam made up his mind and walked into the shop. The bel above sang merrily and Sam longed to reach up and pull it from its hold. But he restrained himself and instead offered a flimsy smile to the man behind the counter.

“Sam!” said Gabriel, clearly both elated and distressed, “what the hell are you doing here?”

“What,” said Sam, feigning ignorance, “can’t I come see you in my spare time?”

“You know damn well why you can’t,” said Gabe, as he tried to move past Sam.

“No, I don’t,” said Sam with a tilt of his head, “I have no idea why you suddenly got it into your head that you don’t deserve me, or that I don’t love you or that I- I don’t know, whatever the hell it is you decided.”

“Because you deserve better than me and you deserve more than that!”

“More than WHAT?!” yelled Sam, “more than my chance at happiness? More than my true love? More than the only thing I’ve ever wanted more than to see my brother happy?”

Gabriel stood stock still.

“I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone before, more than I’ve ever loved anything,” said Sam, leaning forward and grasping Gabe’s shoulders, “I can’t live without you and I don’t want to. You can leave if you want. But know that I won’t be better off without you, not now, not ever. I won’t be able to move on. I won’t be able to find anyone else, to love anyone else. I will be able to live, but only just.”

Gabriel didn’t move or speak and Sam realised that everyone in the shop, everyone sat around the tables where Gabe served chocolate foods and chocolate milkshakes and hot chocolates were staring at them. He dropped his hands from Gabe’s shoulders with an awkward pat.

“You know where I’ll be. You know what time I’ll come back past this shop and you know what’s for dinner tonight. You have tonight and tomorrow to change your mind before I begin to cut out everything that reminds me of you in our home because it’s too painful.”

Sam turned, not waiting for an answer, caught Chuck and Ash’s eyes and looked away. He went back to the office, realising that he didn’t have any time to grab any lunch now and hoping that Anna would have the sense to buy him some food. She must have known something was up when he walked through the door of the office, because she didn’t ask any questions about his lunch, instead passing him a large mug of coffee and a bacon bun.

“Thank you,” he said, biting hard into the unhealthy food, but relishing the taste of it.

She smiled a little sadly and sat back down at her desk.

“You have no meetings yet,” she said, “your next appointment is at four o’clock. Until then, I guess it’s paperwork city for you.”

“Okay, thanks Anna.”

The afternoon passed like molasses and Sam felt his head jerking upwards each time the door opened, each time the air temperature changed to herald the arrival of a new person in his office. He thought that Gabriel would take his offer and come back. He had hoped that he would. He had prayed that he would. But as the afternoon dragged on towards five o’clock and his clients became more and more whiny, he thought that he would snap. Maybe Gabe wasn’t coming home after all. Maybe he was serious about leaving. In his mind, whilst a client was talking about a simple legal procedure that Sam could do in his sleep, he began to plot a new route to work that avoided the shop.

He left the office bang on five o’clock with a wave to Anna and an order for her to go sooner rather than later and get home to see Balthazar and their little one. He wound his way home past Heaven’s Wonders, but it was already closed as he passed. In the past, Gabe had waited for Sam to come past and then they’d closed up together and gone home. But today, he kept going alone until he reached their flat. He let himself in and turned on the CD player and began blasting _Meatloaf_ around the apartment. He danced and scouted the lyrics for an hour until it reached six o’clock when he picked up the phone and hit speed dial four.

“Hello, Mr Winchester,” came the voice on the other side of the phone, “your regular, I assume.”

“I’d love my regular,” said Sam, mildly drunk from the beer he’d just drunk, “I would love my regular, our regular, and I would love if you could deliver it as always.”

“Of course, Mr Winchester,” said the man, “would you like me to remove the beers from your order?”

“Of course not!” cried Sam, laughing down the phone, “just send your hottest delivery guy.”

“You say that every week,” said the man, “or at least Mr Milton does. I guess he’s too busy this week.”

“Yeah ... too busy.”

Sam hung up and put the phone back down, turned off the stereo and sat down in his chair to turn on the TV. He put on an episode of NCIS, just like they always did when they were waiting for their takeaway on a Friday night. He watched as Gibbs and his team tried to sort out the latest mess that a naval officer had got himself or herself into. The guy at their takeaway always bumped their order to the top of the list. Most days, he didn’t even wait for them to call and just told the chef to go ahead and cook it.

So it was no surprise to Sam when the door bell rang only ten minutes into NCIS. He paused Abby mid explanation and went to the door. He pulled it open, expecting to see his regular delivery boy, looking as cute as he always did. But it wasn’t Alfie. Instead, dressed in uniform with a bag of Chinese in his hand was Gabriel.

“Your regular, sir,” he said, tentative smile on his face.

“Thank you very much,” said Sam, opening the door wide, “come on in.”

Gabriel bounded in, with slightly less energy than usual and slightly more trepidation.

“Sooo, what’s Gibbs doing tonight?” said Gabriel, not sitting down, but putting the bag on their coffee table.

“He’s trying to sort out a mess as usual. One of the officers has been murdered and it looks like the wife did it, but the team don’t buy that and Abby’s about to reveal some evidence,” said Sam, plonking himself down on the sofa and pulling Gabe down next to him.

He handed him a beer and the two of them passed their evening the same way as always, laughing and joking their way through the pain that the last day and a bit had caused them.

Dean always said that it was thanks to Phil the takeaway guy that they were still together and he even managed to work it into his best man’s speech at their wedding.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked, please comment or leave Kudos!


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